As a teenager, I often heard my father say things that later turned out to be incorrect. I guess that’s a father’s prerogative, and I’ve probably done the same many times. But I don’t want to explore that aspect of my life right now.
One he said quite often was, “Eating healthy is for wimps.”
I had no idea what he was talking about at the time, but I knew dear old mother worked very hard to make sure he was eating healthy food. So she did her job, but that didn’t do him any good. He always ate the opposite of healthy, and that was just how he was.
Later in life he had diabetes, high blood pressure, clogged arteries and eventually multiple heart attacks. Then he died.
In his opinion, these things had nothing to do with his food at all. They were just things that happened and he had no control over them.
No matter how ill he was, he always found it in himself to enjoy a dessert with lots of sugar in it. His favorite dessert was what he was eating right now.
I hadn’t remembered that for a long time until I had my first heart attack a few weeks ago. Who knew I even had a heart! And what did my heart have against me that it wanted to attack me?
My main artery was 90% blocked and the doctors called her the “widow maker”. That was relatively new to me.
I spent about half a week in the hospital where I had a stent put in to help the main artery. The nurses drew more blood than I thought they would. Count Dracula would have been jealous.
One nurse I called Nurse Porcupine because she had more needles than a porcupine had quills. It took half a dozen attempts to find an artery containing blood. Both of my arms are black and blue and have the appropriate pinholes in them.
My stay in the hospital lasted only three days, but felt like an eternity. Its experiences like these make you appreciate your own home and bed and lazy chair. I was so happy to come home.
Then I thought about my father again. In the last years of his life he spent most of his time in the hospital. I’m not entirely sure how he survived those experiences, but he made it. Then I thought about his comments about healthy eating.
According to him, a diet consisted of what he wanted at the time. All this careful eating was way beyond his modus operandi.
I remember he once spent two weeks in a hospital getting his arteries cleaned and drained, or what they call it, and when he got home his idea was, ‘I’m healthy now, so I can eat what I want to eat. “
It didn’t take long for him to get back to where he was before he went to the hospital.
As I thought about it, I had a terrible option in front of me.
I could take things in a very arbitrary way like my father and not take my diet routine seriously.
On the other hand, I was able to take my health and eating habits seriously.
My first impression is that I’m going with my father. After all, dads are never wrong, right?
Not to criticize my father who has been away for over a decade but hasn’t really taken his health seriously. He figured it was just natural that he could eat whatever he wanted without consequences.
The greatest obstacle in my decision regarding my health and eating habits is the gracious mistress of the vicarage. For some reason, she took my diet pretty seriously, like it was hers.
The dilemma I find myself in is that she is the one overseeing the culinary activities in the house. I’ve been locked out of the kitchen for years because of an incident that happened a few years ago that I don’t want to get involved with now.
Since I am currently in a health-challenging situation, I don’t have many options. Either eat what the gracious mistress of the vicarage has produced, or starve. Starvation is not the particular exercise I like.
I have to admit that my wife is an excellent cook and prepares very delicious meals which I am confident are extremely healthy. From my point of view it is delicious when there is no broccoli.
Their healthy selection of desserts is delicious.
So I can do my own thing and get into a lot of trouble or allow the gracious mistress of the vicarage to do her thing and take charge of the nutritional activities in our home.
As I pondered this dilemma I find myself in, I realized a wonderful verse in the Bible. “And also that every man should eat and drink and delight in the good of his work, that is the gift of God” (Ecclesiastes 3:13).
Rather than enmeshing me in any ritual eating habits, I believe that from God’s perspective, He wants me to enjoy my life. But of course, as I now realize, enjoying life means taking care of my eating habits for the glory of God.
Thanks to James Snyder
